Beginnings
by Fallen0ne
Summary: When Harry discovers that everything he ever knew, ever was, was a lie, he is lost. Seeing the world through new eyes, Harry must stand his ground, and fight to overthrow the oppressive forces that hold the Wizarding World captive. Dark!Harry, MxM
1. Prologue

**Beginnings**

**Prologue**

Believe it or not, it's actually really difficult to begin a story. Obviously, you should start at the beginning. But what if your story doesn't have a clear beginning? What if there are several to choose from? I, personally, have four. Now, how can a person have four beginnings? You are born, and that is where you begin, surely? But what if your beginning was tied to someone else's birth and continuation? What if who you became was a lie? And what would happen when the mask of lies and deceit began to crack? Would you drown under the opinions of others, or would you fight? Fight for those you love, for justice, to make the world a safer place for the generations to come.

I chose to fight, and in doing so, I sparked a war so savage and cruel that it would leave a scar on the minds and souls of those who lived through it. Thousands died, and all because I made one, single, crucial choice. And I regret none of it. For if the world had not suffered and burned, if the old, twisted and prejudiced ways had not been torn apart, there would be no room for the world we created to grow. The mask must shatter to reveal the true face beneath. New life will spring from the ashes of old...

But skipping to the end is pointless. Perhaps telling you my name shall help. My name is Harry Potter, although I have been given many more since. I was born to James and Lily Potter, who were killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort, but then I accidently killed him (sort of) when his curse rebounded. Sadly, this accident made me rather famous. I attended five years at Hogwarts, played Quidditch, made friends, and got detentions. I did what the world expected of me. For five years, I was the Boy-Who-Lived, shining hero of the nation. After those five years however, things didn't quite go to plan. Well, not the world's plan anyway. Mine went rather smoothly.

But enough of that, there is a story to be told. As I said, I have several beginnings, but the one I shall give you for now, is the most common and dull. On 31st July, Harry Potter was born in St. Mungo's hospital. The rest of my beginnings will come later, but for now, that one shall do.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It was dark. So dark. Harry lifted his hand in front of his face, but knew he wouldn't be able to even see the outline. How many times had he found himself in this desolate place? He was trapped, again. Harry didn't bother struggling as he had a hundred times before. He just waited; waited for what he knew was coming. Harry didn't wait long.

There was a noise in the darkness. A low rumbling, like distant thunder. It had terrified Harry the first time he heard it, but now he just let the terrible sound roll over him. And then, _it_ came. From somewhere above him, there came a pressure so dense and heavy, that he could feel himself being pushed even deeper into the abyss beneath him. The pain was excruciating. He was being crushed smaller and smaller, the constant oppressive weight granting no mercy on his delicate frame. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't speak. Then, when he could take no more, a voice slithered through the darkness.

"Hello Harry."

Harry woke with a start. Reaching through the crimson curtains of his four poster bed, he snatched his wand from the small cabinet beside the bed.

"Lumos!" The light revealed his rumpled, sweaty sheets, but no person who the disembodied voice could belong to. Finally getting his breathing under control, Harry muttered "Tempus". The floating red letter showed '4.36am'. Harry sighed, flicked his wand to extinguish the light, and collapsed back into bed.

At breakfast, the constant early morning wake up calls were beginning to take their toll on Harry. He pushed his bacon round the plate, then stifled a yawn. Hermione eyed him suspiciously, before throwing a pointed look at Ron.

"You alright, mate?" he asked casually. Harry yawned again, before nodding.

"Yeah, just up late last night. Trying to understand what McGonagall was on about last lesson!" He laughed lightly, before turning back to his breakfast. He completely missed the look Ron and Hermione shared.

The first lesson of the morning was Charms. They were studying the theory of the Patronus Charm, ready for when they attempted the spell next year. Flitwick jabbered on at the front of the room, perched precariously on a tower of books, while the rest of the class attempted to keep up with his enthusiasm. Hermione was scribbling so fast, her quill keep flicking ink onto Ron's parchment. Ron had given up all together and was turning the ink blots into stick people by giving them bodies, arm and legs. Harry was gazing out of the window, completely bored. The Patronus was old news to him. What he was finding interesting were the snatches of last night's dream that kept coming back to him in small flashes. He remembered darkness, the pressure and the pain, and then the voice...

"Harry!" He jumped. Ron and Hermione were both staring at him. He sent a puzzled look at them, after which Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away, but Ron leaned closer.

"You spaced out for a minute there, mate! Couldn't get your attention, you're lucky Flitwick didn't notice!" Harry smiled at the redhead. He took a piece of spare parchment and scribbled a reply.

_Sorry. Thanks for waking me up!_

Ron looked at it and smiled, before scrawling back

_No problem mate. Is something wrong, you're a bit out of it today!_

Harry frowned and shook his head. "Tired", he mouthed at Ron, who nodded in understanding. The redhead took the parchment once more.

_Dreams bugging you?_

Harry hesitated, but wrote back _Nah, just need a good sleep! Might skip potions... _

It was only a small lie, and Ron didn't need to worry about

Ron snickered at that, before turning back to the lesson, while Harry slipped back into his musings. A minute later, Ron passed the scrap of parchment with their conversation on to Hermione, who narrowed her eyes as she read it.

After charms, Harry headed back to Gryffindor Tower to drop his bag off before lunch. Ron had stuttered something about Hermione, and then dashed off, blushing furiously. Still sniggering, Harry threw the books into his trunk, and then smiled absent-mindedly at his shadow, which the sun shining in from the window had thrown up against the opposite wall.

He froze. His own shadow was there, but alongside it was a second one, as though someone where standing right next to him... Harry whipped around, his hand flying to his wand. Only the window and the bright sunlight greeted him. Turning back cautiously, Harry stared at his own, now solitary shadow...

'_...What the hell?!'_

Still thoroughly unnerved by the mysterious shadow, Harry was slightly edgy throughout lunch, something that was picked up by his year mates.

"Som'fin wrong 'Arry?" Seamus managed to say around a mouthful of bread roll. Harry raised an eyebrow at the attempt, but gave them the same story he gave Ron and Hermione, about simply needing more sleep. They seemed to accept this, although Neville still seemed concerned. All in all, it was a fairly quiet hour. Not that it would last. Between Harry and a relaxing evening was double potions with the Slytherins. Joy.

On the way to the dungeons, Malfoy sneered at him, while Nott deliberately walked into Harry with enough force to leave a bruise.

"Watch it, Mudblood!" he snarled. That insult left a strange feeling coiled round his gut. He'd been insulted a thousand times before, yet today, that one word really pissed him off. Determinedly gripping his bag, instead of reaching for his wand as he'd prefer, Harry brushed off the comment, the only sign he had heard was the harsh set of his jaw.

Potions went steadily downhill. The burn salve he made was more purple than blue, which gave Snape another glorious excuse to rip into Harry once more.

"Tell me, Potter. How many Laytis leaves are you supposed to add?"

"Four, sir." Snape sneered at him. "And which way must you stir?"

"Clockwise three times, and anti-clockwise twice." Another sneer.

"So you managed to pick up a textbook after five years, Potter? Congratulations. Now tell me, in which order did you add the leaves and stir?"

Harry frowned, he'd added the leaves and then stirred... and glancing down at the instructions, it told him the opposite. Harry sighed, and looked back at Snape, who knew his answer.

"So you managed to pick up the textbook Potter, but couldn't manage to get past the second page. Ten points from Gryffindor, and see me after class."

Harry huffed, but didn't comment. He knew arguing would get him nowhere.

After class, Harry waited behind. Snape slammed the door shut, then stalked back to his desk. "Potter" he snapped. "Although I would sincerely love to spend all my spare time correcting you abysmal potion skills, I have more... _important_ things to do. I – " . He cut off, glancing at the door. Flicking his wand, the door flew open in time for them to see Ron and Hermione jump back guiltily. Snape glared. "As low as Potter's intelligence is, I'm sure he can find his way out of the dungeons _without_ his two faithful lapdogs to lead the way. Now get out." The pair blushed, before retreating out of sight. The door swung shut, and Snape continued.

"It's come to my notice that your learning abilities in ... _certain areas_ shall we say, are severely lacking. Therefore, I – ". He broke off for again, this time striding to the door and wrenching it open.

"When I say 'get out now'" he bellowed, "I mean remove your miserable carcasses from my dungeons immediately, _not_ move six feet down the corridor! _Get out!_" The sound of footsteps pounding swiftly down the corridor almost made Harry smile. Those two really were protective of him...

_Not protective, possessive..._

Harry blinked. Where did that come from? His day was getting weirder by the hour. Snape had returned to his seat, and finally finished his sentence.

"As I said, Potter. Your performance is abysmal. You will therefore have extra remedial potions on a Tuesday and Thursday night, on top of the regular ones on Saturday. If you have complaints, go see the Headmaster. Until then, get out of my sight." Needing no more excuse, Harry snatched up his bad and fled the dungeons.

Evening couldn't come quick enough for Harry. Instead of heading back to the Tower, he'd decided to tackle the mountain of homework that was due for that week. Slipping into the library, he'd headed straight for the little table in the back corner. Few students ventured so far back into the library, so peace and quiet shouldn't have been a problem. But for Harry, what should have been rarely happened. Walking silently and alone, Harry automatically checked the side isles for possible threats, such as the occasional lurking Slytherin. Glancing to his left, Harry nodded absent minded at a figure leaning against a book case ... a figure looking directly at him.

Harry did a double take. The figure had gone. Harry stood staring at the empty isle. Only books and dust greeted him. Backing away slowly, Harry turned, and plunged deeper into the library heading for his quiet, shadow-free refuge. His hand remained tightly grasped around his wand for a long while after.

That was only the start of his hellish evening. Half an hour later, Harry was still feeling jumpy and snappish when Ron and Hermione turned up. Within minutes he was fending off a barrage of questions. Hermione had looked at him curiously, and asked

"Why are you studying, Harry? Do feel ok? Has something happened?" Harry had blinked, then laughed.

"I'm fine, Mione. Just thought I'd get some work done while I've got time." Which lead to more questions along the lines of "why won't you have any time?", "what are you going to be doing?", "why haven't you told us?", "are you hiding something, Harry?" and finally "Stop being stubborn and tell us what you're hiding!"

Harry had gaped at Hermione's determined face. He held up his hands as a peace gesture and spluttered "I'm not hiding anything! I decided to do my homework! Is there something wrong with that Hermione?!"

Picking up his quill, Harry wrote a grand total of three words before she leapt in with another question.

"So what did Snape want?" Taking a calming breath, Harry summarised the various insults Snape had thrown at him, and then explained that he'd been given detentions on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, until he could brew the last three potions correctly. They didn't know about his Occlumency lessons, as Snape felt that the less people who knew, the less people who could give the information to Voldemort. Harry had grudgingly agreed, but now he felt a stirring of satisfaction arising from keeping something a secret from the two of them.

Hermione had listened to all of this with a raised eyebrow. Harry stared back at her, before giving up and turning back o his essay. Five minutes later, he realised Hermione was still staring at him.

"What now?" he asked tiredly. Hermione huffed, before flying into full lecture mode.

"I hope you're telling me the truth Harry. I don't think it's too much to ask to tell me what Snape wanted after everything I've done for you. Hiding things is _nasty_, Harry, and I know you're not a mean person, so I think you should do the decent thing and just tell me everything."

Harry blinked at her. Then he blinked again. An incredulous smile formed on his face, marred only by the frown which creased his brow.

"I've told you everything, Hermione. And I told you the truth." _Lying is becoming fairly easy these days_ he thought smugly, before continuing. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish this essay sometime tonight." When she made no move to go, Harry raised his arm and pointed.

"The door's over there."

With an indignant snarl, Hermione snatched up her bag and stormed out of sight. Shaking his head, Harry picked up his quill yet again. A few minutes passed in silence, before Ron leaned closer.

"So, what _did_ Snape say?" Harry slammed his quill down on the table causing a large _thud_ that echoed through the library.

"Just piss off Ron!" he snapped. Ron started, then jumped up and fled after Hermione. Harry took a deep calming breath. And then another. And one more. Breathing under control, Harry reached for his quill, only to find it snapped in half from its meeting with the table.

"Oh bloody hell!" he snarled, throwing he pieces away from him.

"Now, Potter, I don't know what the quill did to you, but I'm sure it doesn't deserve that treatment." Oh lovely, just who he wanted to see. Malfoy smirked at him, before nudging the pieces with his foot.

"Couldn't help noticing Weasel and the Mudblood leaving in a hurry. Was that your handiwork too?" Harry paid no attention, but instead opted for rummaging for another quill. Why did he keep so much junk in his bag? Still searching, Harry paid no attention to the words being spoken.

"_Stupid mudbloods don't know when to keep their noses out..._"

Malfoy blinked, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it with a snap. Then...

"Did you just say the word _Mudblood_, Potter? About your two best friends no less?" Harry froze. He had just said _Mudblood_, without thinking, without even caring. Even thirty seconds later, he _still_ didn't feel guilty. A sudden calmness came over him, and he shrugged at Malfoy.

"They really pissed me off." He gave a slight smirk, before turning back to his rummaging. Malfoy was still staring at him.

"What?" The Slytherin just gaped at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning in concentration.

"Potter. You're _Harry Potter_. A _Gryffindor._ Chosen One, Boy-Who-Lived... et cetera, et cetera. The word _Mudblood_ shouldn't even be in your dictionary, let alone everyday speech. Are you feeling okay?"

Still immersed in the strange calmness, Harry smiled at the blonde.

"I'm feeling fine, thank you. Better than I have done in a long time, if you're interested." Giving up the search, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the quill lying at Malfoy's feet. Summoning it, he lay it on the desk and muttered "Reparo", then watched as the pieces zoomed back together. Putting his wand away, he inspected it, then held it up towards Malfoy.

"Don't know why I didn't think of that five minutes ago." He chuckled. Noticing the blonde was still standing, he nudged out a chair with his foot.

"Care to join me?"

Malfoy looked surprised and started forward with a slight smile. Glancing over his shoulder, he froze, before his face fell into its usual condescending sneer.

"Well, if it isn't the Weasel and the Mudblood. Crawling back to Potter so soon? And why are you skulking around the bookcases, anyway?" Harry frowned, before rising and walking to stand beside Malfoy. Peering around the dusty shelves, Harry glared at the two red-faced Gryffindors.

"Did you want something?" he asked coldly. Ron blushed and ducked his head, but Hermione stood stepped out from her hiding place behind the shelves and said determinedly "We wanted to know whether you're going to apologise for being so rude to me." She said primly. Harry raised an eyebrow, and continued to glare at her. She frowned, and snapped "Well? Are you?!"

Harry snorted. "No, I'm not. So if that's all, then you're wasting my time being here. Bye." He turned to slip back to the table, before Hermione's shrill voice sounded again. "You won't last a week without us Harry!"

Stopping in his tracks, Harry turned slowly, his features cold enough to freeze fire.

"And what, exactly, do you think I need you for?" He questioned softly. Advancing slowly, he noted how Ron moved slightly behind Hermione, who was casually inching her hand towards her wand.

"I don't need you to hold my hand everywhere. I can live perfectly well without you following me around." Halting a foot away from the pair, he stared coldly into their eyes before saying, "You'll get no apology from me. Anything you need to know, I would have told you. Just because I'm known world-wide, does _not_ give you, or anyone else, the right to know every, single detail of my life. I will _not_ apologise. So I suggest you leave. _Now._"

Turning her nose up at Harry, Hernione turned on her heel, before storming off in a way that would have made Snape proud. Ron hesitated and opened his mouth to say something, before Hermione marched back, seized his arm, and dragged him off.

Laughing openly, Harry slipped back to his seat. Malfoy sat down weakly opposite him.

"I can't believe I just saw that..." he murmured. Harry collapsed into laughter at the stunned blonde, who after a moment, relaxed into the chair and joined in.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

An exhausted Harry flopped down on his bed, alone in the Gryffindor Tower. He couldn't quite believe what had happened.

"I argued with Ron and Hermione..." he whispered. "I said I didn't need them..."

_You __don't__ need them._

Harry sat bolt upright at the whisper.

"Who's there?"

Nothing. No-one. Harry fiddled with his wand nervously. Then tapped his fingers. Agitated and snarling, he threw himself off the bed and stalked around the dormitory, looking behind curtains, under the beds and even in the small adjoining bathroom. Still no-one.

Breathing heavily, Harry flopped down on his bed once more. He was exhausted and his head was pounding. Leaning back into the crimson pillows, he gazed up at the canopy above his bed.

'I called them Mudbloods' he thought worriedly. '.... I don't care. I _actually don't care!_ What the hell's wrong with me?!' A shout of hysterical laughter burst from his lips, before he clapped a hand over his mouth to stop it. He might be going crazy, but there was no need to tell the rest of the world. His eyes drooped. Dropping his wand on the small table beside him, Harry rolled over, and allowed his eyes to fall shut.

It was dark. So dark. Harry stood in the darkness yet again. The pressure was already pushing down on him. He couldn't breathe. Harry attacked the oppressive blanket of shadows above him, scrabbling desperately, trying to find a way out, a bit more room, air, _anything_. It was like being caged, with the ceiling being lowered inch by inch, crushing him, killing him....

But wait. Harry paused. Was it... was it really? His fingers flew over the dark surface, and then stopped. A crack? It was! He could feel it. Less than an inch, but it was more space for his being to squeeze into. Pressing his mouth to it, he could taste fresh air slipping quietly in. Pushing closer, Harry listened. A steady humming came from outside. What was it? Had he heard it before? He couldn't tell. The air was getting thinner, harder to breathe, harder to think... so much easier to give up, sleep...

No!! He couldn't! Not while there was something out there! He was there, he existed! Don't give up! Not now! You can't! Desperately, he threw himself at the tiny opening. Pushing, squeezing, screaming. And then, suddenly, he was being sucked through. Dragged into the gap and through the darkness. The world was spinning, crashing, ripping. And then it stopped.

_Eyes opened. Where was he? Alive? Dead? Fingers clenched around something. Soft. It was soft. Rosy lips parted. One breath. One sweet, long breath of pure air. A smile, which turned into a quiet giggle. Eyes took in his surroundings. A colour... red? Yes, red. How long had it been since he saw that? Another giggle. He wanted more. What was he doing? Ah, lying down. On a bed, to be precise. Sitting up slowly, allowing the body to get used to new situation, eyes swept over the room. A table. Was it his? Yes, he recognised it... And a wand! He couldn't believe it! Was it just lying there? Did no one want it? _

_A hand snatched the prize eagerly. He cradled it to his chest, giggling madly. Heart pounding, he threw his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touched carpet. Real carpet! He jumped to his feet – then fell heavily. Too much, too quickly. Still snickering, he crawled slowly over the floor, hands and knees relishing the contact. Something blocked his path. Stone. Ah, a wall! He crawled back the way he had come, before pausing to take another long sniff at the air. With a satisfied smile, he looked down at the carpet. He lowered his head, sniffed at it, and then, pressing his face into the wonderfully soft material, he allowed his body to drop, before rolling onto his back, and rubbing, twisting and squirming on the carpet, in a very feline manner. _

_And then he felt it. A tugging. No, it couldn't be... he was out, he was here! You can't – the rumbling sound approached. Panic. Fear. He couldn't go back. Not now. Staggering to his feet, he lurched for a door. Throwing it open he stumbled inside. _

Tug.

_No! He looked down at his stomach and felt sick. A large, black hold was forming, pulling him in on himself, dragging him back there._

'_No! Don't make me! Please! I have a wand! I can fight! I will fight! I can -'_

Harry woke with a start. He was panting, his heart racing. His shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, while his hands trembled. Deliberately slowing his breathing, Harry sat still for a moment, allowing the after effects of the nightmare to pass. When he was calmer, he reached for his wand, slipping back into his normal nightly routine. His hand met the table. He inched his hand forward. Then to the right. Then left. Harry jumped to his feet, hands passing over the smooth wood wildly. His wand was gone.

Harry froze. Turning, slowly, he looked across the dark and empty dorm. The bathroom door was open. It was usually kept shut. Fear gripped at him.

'It couldn't have been...' Stepping forward cautiously, Harry clenched his fists and cursed his Gryffindor courage for deserting him when he needed it the most. Silently padding across the room, Harry paused at the bathroom doorway. No sound could be heard from within. Hastily, Harry snapped on the light, then jumped back.

Nothing. The bathroom was empty, save for his wand, lying innocently and alone on the cold stone tiles.

Snatching it up, he carefully inspected every inch of the bathroom, but there was no sign of whoever had taken his wand. Had he been sleepwalking? Possessed? Going mad?

"Harry?"

Harry whirled around, his wand flying to halt in the face of a surprised Ron Weasley. The redhead jumped back startled, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Whoa, mate! What's going on?!" Harry slowly lowered his wand. Breathing deeply, he slipped it into the waistband of his trousers, then shot a very weak smile at his friend.

"Sorry..." he muttered, ashamed. He knew he'd been out of order with Ron before, but they'd made him so angry, _questioning him like that!_ But Ron had only ever been his friend... and if Snape had called him to stay behind, Harry would have wanted to have known what had been said.

"I've been a jerk Ron," he whispered "I'm sorry... I'm just knackered, and with Mione bugging me and all... I just snapped, you know?"

Ron's face broke into a relieved grin. He stepped forward and threw an arm round Harry's shoulders.

"Don't worry mate! Everyone gets narked at some point!" he laughed, and Harry found the smile on his face growing, before he broke into laughter as well. Ron was his friend. His best friend. How could he even _think_ about falling out with him? Walking back into the main dorm, the two boys flopped down on their relative beds, both relaxed and relieved at their restored friendship. While changing, Harry glanced over at Ron, before asking;

"Do you think I was completely out of order with Hermione?" Ron hesitated in his undressing. A frown marred his features, and his fingers fiddled softly with his pyjama sleeve. To Harry, it was a clear sign that Ron was debating with himself, turning something over in his mind. Eventually though, he gave a half shrug.

"I can understand why you snapped at her. She _was_ being nosy. I think she was just ... surprised that you argued back." He gave a nod, as though to assure himself that the answer was correct, before turning back to his clothes.

Harry, not entirely assured, decided to see how Hermione acted in the morning. Climbing into bed, the boys flicked their wands at the lights, plunging the dorm into darkness. Harry rolled onto his side, and shut his eyes, praying to whatever deity that existed that his nightmare would not repeat itself.

"...Harry?"

"Yes Ron?" There was a long audible pause, then;

"Nothing. Not important." Harry gave a soft snort of laughter. Silence ruled again, Harry waiting patiently for what he knew would come. About five minutes later, another, softer whisper.

"Harry?"

"Yes Ron?" Another hesitant pause, before;

"We're best mates, right?" Harry snickered, before assuring the redhead that they were.

"And we'll always be, right? I mean, nothing would stop you being my mate, would it? Like something really bad..." He trailed off. Harry frowned. Where was Ron going with this?

"Ron, there's not much you could do that would stop me from being your friend, okay? It would have to be something ridiculously bad... like if you decided Potions was your favourite lesson. I'd have to kill you then." He heard Ron chuckle.

"Well obviously. Same to you Potter!" he teased. Harry laughed gently.

"Harry?" He sighed.

"_Yes _Ron?"

"... what would count as 'ridiculously bad'?" Harry's eyes shot open. What the hell had Ron done? He couldn't think of anything lately. As though sensing Harry's train of thought, Ron swiftly added "There's nothing wrong of course. Hypothetically speaking."

Harry looked worriedly towards the other bed. He rolled onto his back, pondering what Ron would have to do to lose his friendship.

"You could sell me out, I suppose. Tell everything about me to the papers for money. Spread rumours, make my life hell. Betrayal in general, really."

A long, tense silence stretched through the dorm. Harry could practically hear Ron's mind turning over the words. Feeling compelled to put his friend's mind at ease, Harry murmured "You know, _if_, hypothetically speaking, you'd done something, and wanted to tell me, you know you could, right? I might be pissed at you, but I'd forgive you eventually if I knew _why_ you'd done it."

He knew he'd said the right thing when Ron laughed softly.

"Ta mate. That helps."

"Anytime."

The silence became comfortable. Harry heard Ron's breathing even out as his friend slipped off to sleep. As the darkness closed in on Harry, it was almost comforting. That night passed without incident, with no more strange wanderings or crushing darkness. As Harry drifted off to sleep, the last thing he registered was a soft, despairing sobbing, coming from somewhere in the distance...

Deep within his mind.

Breakfast the next morning was a fairly awkward affair. Harry sat next to Ron, who had mentioned nothing of last night's conversation. Hermione had appeared about ten minutes after them, her eyes lighting up when she spied Ron, but turned icy cold when she spotted Harry on his other side. After a moment's deliberation, she sat down opposite Ron and nodded politely at him when he mumbled a greeting. Harry was ignored completely.

'_Not that I care.'_

Harry frowned. He really _should_ care. Wasn't Hermione was of his best friends as well? He _should_ be begging for forgiveness, not returning her frosty behaviour. But something deep inside was still furious at her stubborn determination to know all his secrets. She should know by now that he valued his privacy.

'_If she was truly your friend, she would respect that.'_

Exactly. Harry gave a slight nod to himself. Friendship worked both ways, and Hermione had been out of line. Yes, that was it. Contented with that thought, Harry turned back to his bacon and eggs. A few minutes passed, before Harry felt distinctly uneasy. He glanced around the Hall, looking for the source. He wasn't surprised when he found nothing out of the ordinary.

"Getting bloody paranoid..." he muttered darkly, and returned to skewering his eggs. The post arrived. Spotting Hedwig's distinct white feathers, Harry held out his hand so she could land with ease. She dropped a letter onto his lap, which Harry snapped up quickly. It was from Sirius! It had been ages since his Godfather had written! Hedwig flew off silently, while Harry turned the letter over and ran his fingers across the small paw print seal on the back. The Black family crest was too recognisable, but for Harry, the new seal was a great improvement.

He slipped his thumb under the wax, and made to open the thick envelope... but his thumb wouldn't move. Harry frowned and pulled his thumb back. He gave it an experimental wiggle. All seemed ok... Slightly unnerved, Harry tried once more to open his letter. But this time, he couldn't even make the movement to turn the envelope over! It was as if someone had an invisible grasp on his arm.

'What the bloody hell?!' he thought, panicking. Was there a curse on the envelope? Or was there something inside that Sirius didn't want him to open at the table? Or was it someone's idea of a joke to jinx the damn thing? He turned to Ron to ask if _he_ could open it, when he suddenly caught the look in Hermione's eye. To anyone else, she seemed absorbed in her book, but Harry could see her sharp brown eyes staring determinedly at the letter, as if trying to read the contents through the envelope.

'_If you open it now, how long will it be before she begins to pry once more?'_

A sly voice whispered at the back of his mind. Emerald eyes narrowed at the bushy-haired Gryffindor. Casually, Harry slipped the envelope into his bag. Sneaking a glance at Hermione, he found her glaring at his school bag as though it had morbidly offended her. He chuckled, before turning back to his breakfast. His scrambled eggs were cold, and only then did he realise that Hedwig had made off with the last of his bacon. He had also completely missed the pointed looks Hermione had sent at Ron.

Harry sighed. Somehow he knew that this was only the beginning of what would probably be a really, _really_ bad day.

And somewhere, deep inside, a small voice agreed.

_Another chapter ____ hope it's okay! Thanks to __The Pirate King of Shipwreck, sarah, and Toasteriffic for the reviews and everyone else who favourited or alerted my story! To Toasteriffic, I get what you mean, it is a little sudden! But hopefully in the upcoming chapters, you'll begin to see that Harry's 'moodswings' (for want of a better word) are not entirely natural... _;)

_So ta again! See you soon!_

_.Fallen0ne. XD_


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